


no luck in swordfishing

by shoutz



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mermaid Keith (Voltron), Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Pining, Sailor Shiro (Voltron), Sheith Secret Santa 2018, Violence, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 18:47:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17188409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoutz/pseuds/shoutz
Summary: There are giants out there in the canyons, and a good captain can't fall asleep.“Hello? Are you okay?” Shiro calls as he sets foot on land. This island, unlike the bigger coast, is covered in sand from years of waves lapping against the shores. Shiro can see drag marks in it from where the stranger must have pulled himself onto land, disappearing where the tide has washed the indentations flat.Shiro doesn’t think about why he had to drag himself onto shore until he gets a better look at his legs.What he had thought were shiny or wet pants of some sort aren’t actually pants at all. He steps closer, and freezes. The guy doesn’t even seem to have legs, instead sporting one long appendage where two should reside. Tail is the first word that comes to mind, but it’s a ridiculous thought. Right? Mermaids aren’t real.Right?





	no luck in swordfishing

**Author's Note:**

> The second of two Sheith Secret Santa pieces I wrote for Anon 1! Had so much fun writing this, hope you enjoy and happy holidays xoxo
> 
> Title from [The Downeaster Alexa](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LVlDSzbrH5M)
> 
>  
> 
> [Link to the second piece](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17102486)

A life at sea tends to be lonely.

Shiro doesn’t mind, though. The seas provide enough company; the waves are excellent listeners, and sing him to sleep every night. He touts the privilege of seeing the sun both rise and set over the water every dawn and dusk, casting beautiful oranges and pinks and reds across the normally dark waters. Light pollution isn’t an issue this far out from shore, so every clear night reveals the sky in all its glory, unmarred and righteous as the stars shine down. Even when the sky is crowded with clouds, storming or sleeting or anything in between, he takes refuge in the captain’s quarters of his proud little boat and watches the raindrops join their brethren down below.

 _Lioness_ has been his trusted companion throughout his journeys at sea. She’s slow but sturdy, cutting through the water with her jet black hull like a horseman of the apocalypse. The other fishermen had raised a curious eyebrow when this sleek ship had pulled into the harbor to pawn off its haul, and raised the other once they saw its scarred, young captain climb out and begin unloading his catch with his metal prosthetic.

But piloting such a beast takes a lot out of Shiro. The lifestyle he’s adopted, one of solitude and meager earnings, has taken even more, but it’s worth it in the end.

It’s worth it because being able to look up at those stars on a clear night, miles away from land with nothing and no one but the waves to keep him company… It’s the closest he can get to being in space without actually working for NASA.

Back when he was younger, it was his life’s dream to travel the stars, but he answered the call of the sea once his grandparents could no longer embark on their own, and the rest was history. He still wonders sometimes if he had made the right call in abandoning his true aspiration. He fantasizes on occasion of selling _Lioness_ , of turning his Bachelor’s of physics into a Master’s or a Ph.D and putting the wheels into motion, but he has people back on land who count on him.

So, he’s a fisherman, instead of an astronaut.

After years and years of overfishing and pollution, bay fishing is no longer fruitful enough to justify. The open oceans called to him, and he never really looked back. It adds to the loneliness tremendously; he sometimes goes weeks without seeing another soul on the water, no one but him and his _Lioness_ and the few fish he manages to catch. And even in the open ocean instead of the bay, those are meager at best. He catches enough to get by, but only just.

It’s been a slow few weeks when he pulls into what he thinks is the Garrison harbor. None of the usual landmarks dot the coast, though, if it can even be called a coast. The land rises high off the water line and it’s a sheer drop to the rocks below, and what he can see of the land above is congested with trees and foliage.

A quick scan of his map and some quick mental math tells him Garrison is another thirty knots north. He sighs, long-suffering, and puts away his grandfather’s old spyglass. It’s not that much of a problem; he has plenty of fuel to last him the trip back, but it’s still a waste and additional work and time that could be better spent. Fatigue has settled into his bones, made a home beneath his skin. He used to tell people his shock of white hair was a bold fashion choice, but nowadays the bags under his eyes give him away. He’s tired, _so tired,_ but the sea is his home and his work and his life, and even if it means working his fingers to the bone, that’s just the price he has to pay.

He sets course north, skirting beside a few islands scattered along the coastline. It’s not the first time he’s made this mistake; he’s seen these tiny isles before, but it seems wrong this time, somehow. Off, in an instinctual way. He blinks, and realizes what’s missing. The elephant seals that usually loiter around this area, using the islands to soak up as much warmth from the sun as possible, are nowhere in sight. Normally they’d be out in full force around this time of year, while the sun beats down hot on the back of his neck, but their usual barking is replaced by an eerie silence, undercut by the rush of waves and water.

He doesn’t see it until he rounds the biggest island, across the side facing away from the continental coastline.

It almost looks like a person sleeping, when he first sees it. But closer up, it looks…wrong. Their legs seem to be dark and almost polished beneath the rays of the sun, sparkling with the light. Did their boat capsize? Did they swim? Not many people sail this close to shore, nor do they venture this far south of Garrison at all without a miscalculation of coordinates or routes. Shiro feels a pang of worry deep in his gut, eyeing the unmoving body with significant concern, and pulls closer to the island.

The closer he gets, the more details he can make out. The body seems male, though the long, jet black hair almost had Shiro fooled. He’s muscular, but not bulky, and wearing some sort of shiny black pants with no shirt. Something dark lays sporadically around his body, maybe seaweed or dirt? He’s not moving, hasn’t moved from his position face-down in the sand since Shiro spotted him. _First aid kit, blankets, clean water,_ he lists off in his mind, trying to remember what he might need to keep this guy alive until he makes it back to the hospital in Garrison.

He slows down as he approaches, keeping an eye on the stranger. Closer now, he sees that the seaweed or dirt is actually neither, but instead a net tangled around his body. The pants look strange as he gets closer as well, but he can’t really make out enough detail from his ship to see what exactly it is. So, he drops anchor, and disembarks towards the island.

“Hello? Are you okay?” he calls as he sets foot on land. This island, unlike the bigger coast, is covered in sand from years of waves lapping against the shores. Shiro can see drag marks in it from where the stranger must have pulled himself onto land, disappearing where the tide has washed the indentations flat.

Shiro doesn’t think about why he had to drag himself onto shore until he gets a better look at his legs.

What he had thought were shiny or wet pants of some sort aren’t actually pants at all. He steps closer, and freezes. The guy doesn’t even seem to have legs, instead sporting one long appendage where two should reside. _Tail_ is the first word that comes to mind, but it’s a ridiculous thought. Right? Mermaids aren’t real.

Right?

He takes another few steps closer to the guy — creature? — and is rewarded with more detail. The shine isn’t water, nor is it some weird kind of pleather. Light glints off several rhinestone-esque bumps that Shiro refuses to identify as scales. They can’t be, right? Mermaids are not real.

Closer now, in a desperate attempt to ignore the lower half of this person’s body, Shiro can see where the fishing net pulls taut across his muscles, leaving pale lines across already pale skin where it cuts the circulation. His arms are tucked under his body, and his face is obscured by flowing black hair and bits of the net.

Finally, carefully, Shiro crouches next to the body, close enough to see the sand sticking to his shoulder blades. He inhales slowly, pushes aside all the parts of him trying to convince him that this creature shouldn’t exist, and takes inventory.

His fears are confirmed: those are scales, that is a tail, this man is a mermaid. Shiro tries not to hyperventilate.

For one, he’s beautiful. Bits of scales dot his lower back and torso, a patchwork of shining black where man merges with creature. The tail itself is a marvelous thing, covered in dark shimmering scales and ending in a silvery fin that fans out flat in the sand. He was right about his muscle structure: he’s thin but there’s a whipcord strength lying beneath his pale skin. Three lines are etched across the side of his neck, which Shiro can only guess are gills. His hair, despite being salty and wet and partially covered in sand, looks like something Shiro wants to run his fingers through. He squashes that thought, and all other thoughts of how remarkable this creature is, in favor of trying to save its life.

 _Focus. Mermaid or not, he needs help._ The net seems to be the biggest problem, but why would he maroon himself after getting tangled in a net? More importantly, why is he unconscious? Why wouldn’t he keep to the safety of the water? It’s too many unanswered questions that make Shiro’s head spin with impossibilities until he’s nauseous and not entirely convinced this isn’t a dream.

He reaches out and touches the man’s back. The skin is clammy but otherwise normal — _human_. Part of this guy, at least, is human. Shiro’s brain latches onto that part like a lifeline. Gentle fingertips trace down his back, over a patch of scales just above his hip. They’re warm to the touch in comparison to his skin, after having soaked the sun for however long he’s been laying here. They’re smooth and Shiro admires them for a moment, wonders if they offer protection or are just there to look beautiful.

 _Beautiful_. Shiro shakes his head. In lieu of gawking at an actual mermaid — a realization he still can’t wrap his mind around — he gets two hands under the creature and takes care in rolling him onto his back.

Shiro frowns at the sight. A gash stretches across his cheek, crusted with sand and dried blood. Several purple splotches bloom against his ribcage and arms, and more lacerations dot the spaces between. Whatever he is, he got into a fight, and seems to have lost.

A million questions race through his mind at once — what did he fight? Is it still out there? Does his kind travel in groups? Where are the others? Will they attack him for just trying to help? — but he shrugs them aside in favor of getting his hands under this creature and lifting him off the sand. He thinks he hears a small groan, thinks he sees the guy’s face twist in something like pain, but he doesn’t wake up fully. There’s really no better way to get him onto the ship besides bridal carrying him, so Shiro swallows his pride and makes his slow and careful way back to his _Lioness_.

After significant deliberation, he doesn’t put the creature in the captain’s quarters, and opts instead to let him stay out in the sun. It scares Shiro how cold his skin is, considering how starkly contrasted it is against the warmth of his black scales, so he sets him on the deck with care and sets to work.

The first order of business is getting him out of the net. Shiro rummages through his tools and finds a knife strong enough to cut the nylon, and crouches down next to him. Gently, careful not to slice the skin or damage the scales, he slides the knife beneath the net and cuts loose a few of the tighter areas. Red lines are left behind from where the nylon pulled taut, but they won’t stay etched into his skin for long. Shiro touches the still-clammy skin with two gentle fingers, smoothing out the lines, before he snaps out of it and continues with the rest.

It takes the better part of half an hour to cut the majority of the net away enough that he can untangle and remove the remaining knots. He tries not to let his eyes wander too much, but it’s impossible. He has a _mermaid_ on the deck of his ship. Creatures of legend that were believed to not even exist at all. And one is lying unconscious on the deck of the _Lioness_. He can’t help but gawk.

Once he has all the fishing net cut away and discarded, he wraps a blanket around the creature’s shoulders. The cold and clammy skin without scales might be normal for him, but Shiro doesn’t want to take any chances. He reaches forward and brushes some of the hair out of his face, frowning at the cut across his jaw and cheek. It’s still caked with sand, so Shiro grabs a cloth and wets it with fresh water to clean it.

He’s in the middle of cleaning the wound, wondering if Neosporin would work on a mermaid, when the creature inhales deep and his eyes flutter open.

There’s a moment that hangs between them, silent with a lack of realization. Shiro is crouched in front of him, far too close to his face for comfort, and when he exhales Shiro can feel the breath on his skin. _So he can breathe normally, without the gills. Interesting._

Beautiful, sleepy eyes widen, pupils dilated, and—

“Oh, shit.”

The creature springs into action.

He tries to scramble backwards, but finds himself backed up against the side of the ship. He tries lifting himself instead, using baffling strength to hoist himself over the side, but the coaming is too high for him to reach. The slippery deck works to his disadvantage, and with nothing but scales for traction, he slips and sprawls across the deck of the ship.

“Hey, take it easy, I won’t hurt you,” Shiro tries to calm the creature down, despite not even knowing if he understands English, but it seems to work somewhat. Realizing that he can’t actually lift himself over the side in this state, he rights himself and turns back towards Shiro, panting and poised defensively. “You’re safe,” Shiro says, “I want to help.”

He takes a moment to look around, to absorb the situation past his original panic. He casts a sweeping glance across the deck of _Lioness_ , catches on the heap of net lying on the ground off to the side. His eyes dart to the island off the opposite side of the ship, and widen slightly in recognition. He looks down at himself, realizing, then back up at Shiro.

“Where…” he rasps, and Shiro’s eyebrows shoot up.

“You can talk?”

He clears his throat and finally speaks. “I can. Who are you?” His voice is a velvety baritone to Shiro’s ears, and he makes an effort to squash down _that_ feeling along with the others that are telling him to take care of this creature at all costs.

“I’m Shiro, this is my ship. You were washed up on that island, wrapped up in a net.”

The creature glances down at Shiro’s legs, then back up to his hair, then finally his eyes. “You are human.”

“Do you have a name?”

A moment passes before he responds, hesitantly, “Keith.”

“Keith,” Shiro says, with no small amount of reverence. “How did you end up there, Keith?”

He looks at the net again, then back to Shiro. Something in his posture softens for just a moment, just enough for Shiro to notice. “You… You saved me.”

Of all things this creature could say, this one takes Shiro aback. He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again in a gesture far more fish-like than anything Keith has exhibited thus far. “Of course,” he finally responds, “I couldn’t just leave you there.”

Keith smiles. Shiro tries to justify the color in his cheeks and the rising heart rate as a fear response to his teeth, which are surprisingly sharp, instead of Shiro being flustered at how cute this mermaid is.

“Thank you,” he says, and Shiro returns to his senses long enough to smile back. At this, Keith’s grin widens, but he abruptly freezes in place as Shiro lays gentle fingers against the gash on his cheek.

Shiro’s brow knits in concern as he leans forward to inspect the wound. Some of the parts that had scabbed over are still intact, but most of it is still tender and red. What could have done this? Keith is obviously capable of defending himself, he had shown as much in his attempts to escape. Are there other mermaids out there seeking to hurt him? Do mermaids have predators? Was it a person? The net seems human-made, but another mermaid could have made it or stolen it to hunt other mermaids. If mermaids are real, it’s not unthinkable—

His thoughts skid to a halt as Keith brings his hand up to Shiro’s, cupping the back of his fingers and pressing them closer. He’s smiling now, and it makes his eyes sparkle in the sunlight. Shiro is in awe.

“What happened to you?” Shiro asks, impossibly soft.

For a long moment, the only sounds between them are those of the sea, the waves lapping against the hull of his boat, the quiet hum of the wind, until Keith lets go of Shiro’s hand and speaks.

“I was hunting, for my clan, but the Galra found me. They cornered me and attacked. They had landwalker weapons,” Keith glances at the net, “I did not think I would escape. I do not… I am not sure how I came so close to shore. We usually keep to deeper waters.”

“Your clan?” is the first question that jumps out of Shiro’s mouth, but he ignores the other ten that pop up as he speaks, “There are more like you out there?”

Keith nods, slightly withdrawn. “Mermaids mostly live in pods or clans. It is…unusual for one to stray from the group except in extreme circumstances. I was in territory of another group, one that tends to be aggressive even outside its own area. They chased me towards the rocks, like they were hunting a meal. It was foolish of me to stray so far.” He looks up at the sky for a moment, then out at the still horizon. “My clan is probably worried.”

Shiro sets a hand on his knee, or a vague approximation of where his knee would be if he had legs. The scales are warm beneath his touch, surprisingly smooth but hardened where they stretch across thick skin and dense muscle. Shiro smiles, tries to be reassuring, tries to distract from his obvious ogling. “Well, you’re safe now. I can take you back to your group, if you’d like. You might be able to avoid trouble riding in _Lioness_ instead of swimming back through that area.”

Keith looks away, and something like a blush makes its way to his cheeks. Maybe mermaids are more human than Shiro had originally thought. “You are very kind, Shiro. I can help you navigate. Our clans are very hard for humans to find.”

Shiro grins, and nods, and gets to work.

Keith directs him slightly south away from the coast. The sun starts sinking lower into the sky, but the late afternoon heat is made much more bearable by the constant wind rushing past them. Shiro helps Keith up on the edge of the boat once they’re up to speed, propped against so he can see into the water. Shiro can’t see very far below the surface, but Keith seems confident. Shiro is quick to trust him, and he tries to tell himself it’s because Keith didn’t maul him on the deck of his own ship instead of because he’s beautiful and Shiro couldn’t imagine saying no to him in any universe, especially not this one.

Keith is surprisingly talkative. He speaks of his clan the Marmora, of his mother Krolia and their leader Kolivan. He tells stories of battles and wars and dealings with other clans, of the Alteans and their grand castle deep beneath the waves, of the monstrous Galra and their conquests. They had been the ones to attack Keith, the ones who gave him that wound and left him to die on that island.

But Keith is open, is honest, is perfect. Shiro could listen to him talk for the rest of his life and never tire of it. He’s follow Keith’s voice beneath the waves if he had less self-control. It lends credence to the myth that mermaids are actually sirens, but Shiro knows his own agency. There’s no mysticism behind Shiro’s fascination and fondness for Keith.

In turn, when Keith tires of detailing his own life, Shiro tells him about life on land. He doesn’t find it nearly as interesting as the stories of creatures below the surface, but Keith seems riveted by the little details. They’re bits and pieces, but Keith listens like it’s sacred knowledge instead of minutiae about regular human life. He talks about his grandparents, about his work, about his dreams to travel to the stars someday. It strikes him, then, how devoted he had been to the sky and the stars until he fell in love with someone who makes their home at the bottom of the ocean.

Love. That’s what it is, isn’t it? The strange feeling in his chest when he looks at this marvelous, incredible being that washed up on that island? God, has he really been that lonely, that desperate for conversation? But then he thinks about the way Keith's eyes lit up when he spoke of his mother, of his late father and the way the refraction of light makes the Altean castle glow at night, and knows with every inch of himself that he doesn’t want to be away from Keith any longer than he has to be.

He’s in the middle of an anecdote about swordfishing when Keith perks up, tense as he looks over his shoulder into the water.

“They are here,” Keith says ominously. Shiro gets up and looks over the edge, trying to see what Keith sees, but Keith sticks his arm out. “Stay back,” he hisses, keeping his eyes glued to the water, tracking something Shiro can’t perceive, “There are many of them, and only two of us. And you cannot swim.”

“I can swim,” Shiro says, trying not to sound like an indignant child, but Keith gives him a look that sobers him.

“Not like they can.”

Something catches his eye on the surface of the water. A dark figure glides just beneath the waves, and then another, and another, and Shiro heeds Keith’s warning. He looks over the opposite edge of the boat and sees three more figures silently circling around to the front of the boat, far too close for comfort. _Lioness_ remains at its constant speed, but these creatures circle her as if she were stationary.

“We need to stop the boat,” Shiro says, heading towards the controls. “We'll lead them right to your clan if we keep going like this.”

Keith looks back at Shiro and yells, “ _No!_ We keep moving. If we stop, they will—”

Shiro apparently lingers too close to the water, and it is his undoing. Keith cuts himself off as he sees a net thrown over the edge of the boat and over Shiro’s head, securing itself around his head and torso, pulling taut just above his waist and pinning his hands useless to his sides.

_“Shiro!”_

Shiro doesn’t even have time to react, to struggle or scream for help. The last thing he sees is Keith pull the lever to drop the anchor and hoist himself over the edge and into the water, before he’s pulled overboard himself.

He barely has enough time to gasp a breath before he splashes into the water. He kicks his legs and tries to pull his arms free, but whatever holds the end of the net is swimming down at inhuman speed and with inhuman strength. Keith was right: he might be able to swim, but not like they can. His ears pop with the increasing pressure as he thrashes. The heat seeps from his body by inches as the dark waters take, and take, and take. The further they descend, the less he can see, but he can still make out a few of the figures that had circled the boat, as well as _Lioness’_ anchor dropping to the floor below.

A distant smaller figure swims towards him, familiar dark hair and fins zipping through the water with ease, but one of the attackers chases him away from Shiro, brandishing a weapon and shouting something in a garbled, foreign language. One of the others, the biggest one of the group, swims towards Shiro and fixes him with a feral grin.

“Ah, so the Marmoran runt found a human to take care of him. Cute.” He’s close enough to see the menacing creature now, with dark purple skin and glowing yellow eyes that send a chill down Shiro’s spine. He’s massive, at least twice Shiro’s size, and holds the end of the net in one hand and a spear in the other.

Sounds of a fight and a struggle make their way to Shiro’s ears through the water, but the dark waters obscure any detail. Two larger creatures are harrying the smaller one, but he fights with enough vigor to hold them off for the most part. With one particularly strong blow, one of the large mermaids goes limp and sinks towards the sea floor, while the ferocious one sets his sights on the other large mermaid brandishing a sword.

His gaze is forced away as the mermaid holding him captive grabs his jaw and yanks his head to face him. The hand is huge, nearly consuming the entirety of his jaw with sharp claws poking into his skin and threatening to draw blood. A few stray bubbles escape his lungs and float to the surface as Shiro tries to pull away, but the creature’s grip is firm. Two other dark creatures swim up to flank Shiro, and the large one holding him flashes his pointed teeth in a horrible smirk. “We will eat you first, and make the little one _watch_.”

Shiro hears Keith yell, closer now but still obscured in the dark. Another figure falls limp into the darkness below, and three others swim towards Keith with nets and spears like their leader’s, but Keith has taken the sword from the other assailant and it gives him what seems to be the upper hand.

Shiro can’t focus on that now, though. His lungs strain for a breath that won’t come, as the last few bubbles escape through his mouth and float to the distant surface. He writhes with the last bit of his strength but the grip on him is strong, unwavering, and the net still holds him mostly prone. His periphery turns black, until the only thing visible is the monster in front of him, the monster who is about to eat him. He thinks about his grandparents, about _Lioness,_ about the stars and being among them one day. He thinks about Keith.

Until a blade erupts through the monster’s neck. Shiro’s eyes blow wide as a cloud of blood spreads from the wound, and the grip on his jaw releases.

 _“Sendak!”_ one of the others yells, but they don’t linger. Sendak’s attacker growls something low and horrible, and the two mermaids flanking their prey flee with their metaphorical tails between their metaphorical legs. Sendak’s body falls to the sea floor alongside his underlings. The last thing Shiro sees is Keith, cradling his face with impossibly gentle hands, before pulling Shiro’s arm over his shoulder and swimming towards the surface. He opens his mouth to express his gratitude, but his lungs fill with water and after a moment of struggling, he loses consciousness.

* * *

 

Stars fill his vision once he finally opens his eyes. The sky sprawls above him, lighter than the dead of night but still dark enough that stars dot the dull, dark blue. The ground moves gently beneath him, a comforting movement that lulls him into safety. He breathes deep, a moment of peace at the ever-faithful sea, until he realizes—

 _“Keith—”_ he rasps, bolting upright from where he lay on the deck of _Lioness._ His throat hurts, _burns_ with a pain that stretches far down into his lungs. A cautious hand rubs his back, soothing, and Shiro finally pulls out of his panic long enough to see Keith sitting beside him with worried, beautiful eyes. Shiro’s heart rate settles itself a little at the sight — he’s alive, he’s safe, he’s here — and he barely has time to see if he’s hurt before Keith surges forward and captures him in a hug.

“Keith…” Shiro says, wrapping arms around him and holding him close. “You saved me.”

Keith pulls back a fraction to get a better look at Shiro, eyes full of a softness that warms him from the inside. “We saved each other,” he says, and it’s as simple as that.

They spend a long moment together, holding one another in an embrace before Shiro backs up and gets a proper look at Keith. He doesn’t look much more injured than he was before, aside from a few bruises on his arms and torso, which comes as a relief to Shiro. Keith seems to pick up on the thought process and inspects various parts of Shiro, lifting his arms and searching for bruises and lacerations. He finds nothing but thin red lines where the net had dug into his skin, and a few pinpricks where Sendak’s claws had dug into his cheek and jaw. Keith touches them gently with a frown creasing his features, but Shiro covers the hand with his own and gives his most reassuring smile.

“I’m okay,” he says, bringing the hand around and pressing a feather-light kiss to the backs of his fingers. “Thank you.”

The frown disappears for a brief moment, but it returns once Keith looks back to the sky. “My people will wonder where I am,” he says with a hint of remorse, “I wish you could come with me.”

Shiro smiles, keeping Keith’s hand held in both of his. “I wish I could go, too. I’d love to see what it’s like down there in your home.”

Keith reaches with his other hand and covers both of Shiro’s, avoiding his eyes. Keith’s skin is pale where Shiro’s is sunkissed, claws sharp where Shiro has fingernails. Shiro’s callouses built from a life at sea rub rough against the smooth skin that so vastly differs from the scales covering his tail and fins.

“Will you come visit me? I want to see you again, Shiro,” Keith says.

Shiro nods, smiles easily. “Of course.”

Reluctantly, Shiro gets up and sets their course towards Keith’s home. They’re only a few knots out, and with the full moon filling the sky with its reflected light, visibility isn’t too much of a problem. Keith watches over the edge of the boat and Shiro admires him from his post at the navigation controls. His hair blows wildly as the wind whips past them, but instead of mussing it into a rat’s nest, somehow it makes him look beautiful. Mysterious, alluring. Starlight glints off his scales, lending a bright shine to the black. His heart hurts, knowing that the most beautiful catch he’s ever hauled will have to go back where he can’t reach.

They make it there within the hour. Keith looks back with a frown that breaks Shiro’s heart, and Shiro cuts the motor and holds them steady.

“We are here,” Keith says. He couldn’t look more like a sad puppy if he had ears and fur. “This area is above the caverns that go far below the ocean floor. The Marmora make their home in the shadows, deeper than most mermaids dare to live.”

Shiro offers a smile. “I hope I can see it someday.”

“I hope to see your home as well,” Keith says. He takes Shiro’s hand, holding it like a precious thing. “It is hard to say goodbye, Shiro. I love you.”

Shiro waits for one long, stunned moment. He takes in the sight before him: a mermaid, a real life mermaid who just saved his life from other mermaids who wanted to eat him, the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen in his life. And Keith…loves him.

“I love you too, Keith,” he says, and his heart hurts with how much he means it. “I’ll miss you.”

Keith smiles, tears making his eyes shine in the light. “I will bring my mother next time. You can meet my family, and I can bring Allura, she loves humans too.”

Shiro closes the distance between them with a kiss, wrapping his arms around Keith’s shoulders. Keith is hesitant at first, but is quick to melt into it. It ends almost as quickly as it had began, in an attempt for Shiro to actually be able to say goodbye instead of giving into the urge and jumping overboard to join him in the depths.

“Thank you,” Keith breathes, before stealing one last kiss. It’s short and sweet and perfect, and Shiro wishes it could last forever, wishes he could abandon life on land to live with Keith and his family. But he remembers his legs that crave land, and his lungs that crave air, and his grandparents waiting for his return.

With one last lingering look, Shiro lets go and Keith falls backwards into the dark waters.

Shiro takes note of his coordinates with the intention of making good on his promise, before starting up _Lioness_ and setting a course back to Garrison.

He makes the mistake of looking back before the area is completely out of sight. A small shadowy figure floats above the waves, barely visible. A pale arm raises out of the water, waving towards _Lioness_. Bidding Shiro goodbye.

Shiro smiles, and waves back, and begins planning his next voyage.

**Author's Note:**

> shiro: alexa how much does scuba gear cost and can i still kiss my mermaid boyfriend with it on
> 
> find me @ shoutzwastaken on [tumblr](http://shoutzwastaken.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/shoutzwastaken)


End file.
